Page 31 of Chase's Kind of Trouble
“I thought you were calling me Daddy now.” he rumbles with a touch of humor in his husky voice.
“Oh my god. I can’t say that now. Only in bed.”
“I can fix that.” He picks me up off the floor with one arm, carrying me to the edge of his gigantic king-size bed. “You give me the word and I’ll make those orgasms I gave you before look like nothing.”
Oof.
This promise causes a waterfall of heat to pour from my belly, down through my core and all the way to my toes. I press my legs together for fear it’s going to drip out of me.
That would be mortifying. But knowing how crazy Chase went to lap up my juices before, he might love it.
“Fuck, Celeste, I can smell you. Heaven’s calling.”
He inhales roughly against my neck, his free hand finding my butt cheek, but he doesn’t stop there, he dips those long fingers all the way around until he’s brushing my pussy with his calloused digits.
A whimpered laugh of delight slips from me.
I press my open mouth against his bare chest, the breath sawing in and out of me in erratic little puffs. “Oh, you devil. You make me so hot so fast. I can’t take it.”
“You took it just fine last night, baby.” He chuckles hotly, husky with desire. “All ten inches of it.”
Lord, did I.
I took it and loved every single inch.
“The heat in my face might set off the smoke detector any second.”
“I’m trained in firefighting.”
“You’re trained in seduction.”
“And you’re made for me, woman.” His lips cruise along my neck until I shiver, giving away my most sensitive place and hemakes a satisfied sound. Of course he takes advantage of that and bites me, sending me into a squirming frenzy.
“Chase!”
“Mmm…are you sore, angel?”
I can’t think.
I just feel good. Especially when Chase kisses me on the forehead. Every time he does that I feel cherished.
He says, “I know you are. I’m not going to abuse this pretty little flower again so soon. I have other plans…”
I’m still clinging to him trying to figure out how to convince him that sore is good when he scoops me up off the floor, carrying me from the bedroom.
“I made you something to eat.”
“What?” I half gasp, half laugh.
“Don’t think a man like me can cook?”
I consider this for a few seconds as I press my cheek against the ridiculous mountain of muscles that make his shoulder. “I’m beginning to think you can do anything.”
Chase’s profile tightens, his jaw going hard. “I’m not perfect, but I’ll break my back trying to do what’s going to make you happy, Celeste.”
Coming from a man like him, that statement feels real.
His mood feels darker when he settles me onto the counter of his kitchen island.
